


Terrible Liars

by panfriedeggs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, POV Jessica Moore, Pre-Season/Series 01, Stanford Era (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panfriedeggs/pseuds/panfriedeggs
Summary: Sam and Dean started doing the telepathy-thing again. It was pretty subtle, but Jess had been watching the brothers—especially Dean—like a busy-body neighbour for days.Dean visits Jess and Sam at Stanford.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 161
Collections: Stanford-era





	Terrible Liars

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout out to Fancy_Pants who wrote a story, making _me_ want to write a story, because peer pressure. Also for being supportive and beta-ing and asking me if I was going to write Wincest.

Jess watched Sam from the kitchen as he fumbled at childcare. Zach’s baby cousin Liam had pulled himself up to standing and was now balanced precariously against a Rubbermaid bin. Unfortunately, he was now stuck and his wriggling attempts to free himself just slid his feet further and further apart. Sam hovered indecisively while Liam started whining at his attempt at the splits.

“Jesus, Sammy, just pick him up.” Ignoring Sam’s annoyance at the nickname, Dean stepped past his brother to scoop up Liam and settle him against his chest. “There we go, big guy. That better? No crying now, alright.” Dean spoke casually, aiming his words at the top of Liam’s head. Liam didn’t respond, except to drool on Dean’s shoulder.

Jess wasn’t sure what to make of Dean. Sam had mentioned offhandedly that he wanted to invited his brother to visit, but she hadn’t expected him to show up so soon. Sam had called him on Wednesday evening, and Dean had rolled up to the apartment she shared with Sam in his leather jacket and classic muscle car Friday afternoon. She’d been silently pissed that she hadn’t had a chance to clean up, but Dean hadn’t seemed to care. He’d smiled brightly but awkwardly and thanked her for offering their couch, but said he had a motel room. The rest of the night, he and Sam seemed to be attempting telepathic communication, what with all the things they _clearly_ weren’t saying. It was a bit of a relief when the brothers headed out, ostensibly so that Sam could “show Dean the sights.” She thought she caught Dean rolling his eyes at that, and liked him a bit better.

Still… Sam letting her meet his brother? That was a good thing. Dean was the first _real_ part of his mysterious past that he’d shared with her. _Sam’s trying,_ Jess thought. _There’s hope for us yet._

In the living room, Dean had started to eye Liam suspiciously. “Here,” Dean said, handing the baby over to Sam. “Pretty sure he needs a diaper change.” Sam squawked a bit, but shifted his grip to not drop the baby. Liam, who had been slowly starting to fuss, immediately started screaming in Sam’s nervous arms.

Sam started, “Why can’t you—”

“No way. I swore off diaper duty the minute you were potty-trained. Y’know how often you pissed on me?” Dean asked rhetorically.

“Pretty sure it wasn’t often enough,” Sam retorted sourly as he headed to the makeshift changing station on the living room floor.

Dean kept an eye on Sam’s bumbling while he rattled off instructions. “Hold him by the ankles,” he said, “pretend you’re dragging a corpse.”

Jess choked on a surprised laugh, while Sam turned an annoyed glare on Dean. “Do the corpses you drag usually wiggle so much?”

“Not if you’re dragging ‘em right,” Dean snarked back. “Don’t be a bitch, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Jess ducked back into the kitchen before she could be roped into childcare or name calling. Zach was going through a tough time, and it was sweet of Sam to offer to babysit, but the only baby she had ever held had screamed at her for ten solid minutes before vomiting down her shirt. She had expected Dean to object given that he didn’t know Zach and was only in town for a short while, but Dean had gamely gone along with Sam’s plan.

So, what did she know about Dean?

He was pretty. That was her first impression. Sam was a good-looking guy, but Dean was the kind of pretty people usually only saw on screens. He looked like he’d walked off the set of an action movie, rough-edged and ruggedly covered in faux grime, except in his case, Jess was pretty sure the grime was real. He had grease under his fingernails, and wore his leather jacket, work boots and scruffy jeans unapologetically. Dean carried himself with a confidence in his own good looks that should have grated, except that he was so very clearly trying not to take advantage of it.

They’d gone out for drinks on Saturday evening to celebrate the start of March break and met up with a group of Jess and Sam’s college friends. She’d seen Sandra and Martina both flirting with him and Jerry eyeing him. Dean had flirted back, but fell short of committing to so much as a coffee date. Even said at one point that he was just here visiting Sam and would be leaving town soon. Sam very carefully hadn’t reacted to that statement at all.

Jess heard the front door open and Zach’s voice filter in. She headed back into the living room to meet him. Liam was back with Dean, settled on his lap with a bottle. Sam stood to the side, looking giant and awkward. She caught his eye and smiled, and he grinned sheepishly back. Sam being incompetent at _anything_ was pretty unusual. He was usually so steady, the one their friends relied on in a pinch. Seeing him so uncomfortable was a bit adorable.

Zach strode into the room with his phone against his ear. “Yeah? She’s going to be alright? God, that’s great to hear… I’ve got her son with me right now, but do you need me at the hospital? … Okay, I’ll head over as soon as I can… It’s not a problem, I’ve got a sitter… Thanks, see you soon.”

Hanging up, Zach let out an explosive “Fu—dge,” remembering Liam at the last minute. “Sorry.”

“How’s Sarah?” Sam asked.

“Better. She’s awake, thank God. I need to go see her,” Zach said.

Sam and Dean started doing the telepathy-thing again. It was pretty subtle, but Jess had been watching the brothers—especially Dean—like a busy-body neighbour for days.

“She talking? That’s a great sign,” Dean said. “They know what happened, yet?”

“I don’t wanna know. I can’t believe Tim—” Zach grimaced, and cut himself off. “No, I’m not going to speculate until I hear it from Sarah. I don’t want to think about it.”

Jess didn’t want to think about it either. There had been a string of domestic violence cases recently, a couple even pretty close to their apartment. The details weren’t publicized since the police were involved, but the gossip mill wasn’t something that could be stopped. Campus newsletters had started aggressively pushing the university Helpline and the local women’s shelter. But truthfully, Jess hadn’t thought much about it until she heard about Zach’s cousin Sarah.

She and Sam had met Tim, Sarah’s partner, once at a party. He’d seemed mild-mannered and polite, and Sarah hadn’t seemed uncomfortable with him at all. But now Sarah was hurt badly enough to need the hospital? It was _disturbing_ how much you just didn’t know people.

“Listen man, it doesn’t take three of us to watch Liam,” Sam said reasonably. “Why don’t I go with you to the hospital? You shouldn’t be on your own right now.”

Zach eyed Dean a bit dubiously. Jess couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t have expected _good with babies_ from Dean’s tough-guy exterior, either.

“Relax, man,” Dean said easily, “I did a lot of this stuff”—he gestured vaguely to indicate _all of childcare_ , Jess supposed— “for Sammy, and he turned out alive. Just a giant nerd.” Sam made a face at him, making Dean grin wider.

“Irritating personality aside, he _is_ better with kids than I am,” Sam vouched. “And Jess will be here, too.” Because it suited her purposes, Jess pasted on her best responsible-and-nurturing look, and privately vowed to switch Sam’s coffee to decaf the next time he volunteered her for babysitting.

* * *

This was not the original plan. Jess’ not-interrogation of Dean would have included a lot more alcohol. She hadn’t pictured Dean bouncing a baby on his lap, or Liam’s sticky hands making a mess of Dean’s shirt, but she wasn’t about to lose this chance. But finally alone with Dean, Jess blanked on how to begin. Fortunately, Dean beat her to the punch.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Dean asked, side-eyeing her.

Caught off-guard, Jess asked “What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

Dean snorted. “You’ve been trying to get me alone since you’ve met me. And I’m guessing not because you’re looking to cheat on Sam.”

Jess gave up. “You want a beer?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Drinks in hand, Jess started. “I can’t get a read on you. You’re just so… _vague.”_

 _“Ouch,”_ Dean said, pretending to be wounded and hunching over Liam.

“Oh, shut up,” Jess said glaring at him. “You’re doing it intentionally. Which is not helping, because you’re a massive part of Sam’s life that I’m trying to understand so I can understand _Sam_.”

“So, what’ve you got so far?” Dean asked, carefully casual.

Jess took a sip of her beer and folded up legs up under her. Staring at Liam (not Dean), she started counting on her fingers. “You’re only four years older than Sam, but you changed his diapers. You’re the only one who calls him ‘Sammy’—sometimes to annoy him, but sometimes I think you just forget not to. You’re a giant flirt, but you didn’t take up any of the offers you got the other night because you don’t want to upset his friends. Sam’s at _Stanford,_ but I can’t even get you to admit to having a job. You spend a lot of time in your car, so whatever you do, it’s mobile. Sam called and asked you to come, and you showed up less than two days later.” She finally looked up at him. “How’d I do?”

It was Dean’s turn to look away. “Not bad. Though you forgot ‘has blinding good-looks and untamed sex appeal.’” Turning serious, he asked “What do you want, Jess?”

The simplicity of that question stopped her for a moment. Then she blurted out, “We were talking about marriage. I told him ‘no.’” Dean looked surprised, and maybe a little offended on Sam’s behalf, so she continued quickly. “I love him. I do. But he won’t talk to me, and he won’t go to therapy. There’s a whole chunk of his life I’m missing—like _you.”_

The floodgates were open, and out came the things she couldn’t say to Sam. “I didn’t want to push him, because I figured it was bad. But if we’re going to be _married?_ He’ll marry me, but he won’t trust me enough to talk to me? I don’t even—I mean, do you have a _mother?_ He’s never _once_ mentioned her.”

“He hasn’t?” Dean looked a bit hurt, and Jess was sorry for that. “Her name was Mary. She died in a fire when we were kids.”

“Oh. Oh, is that why…” Jess tried to find a way to tactful way to say _sometimes he doesn’t sleep, sometimes he jumps at shadows, sometimes I find salt on our window sills, and there’s an iron crowbar he doesn’t think I know about underneath our couch._

“No, he was six months old when she died. He doesn’t remember her.” Dean’s jaw worked silently. “Liam looks pretty conked out. Gimme a few minutes, I’m gonna put him down.”

Jess gave him the out.

* * *

When Dean came back into the room, he seemed to have come to a decision. Fiddling with label on his beer bottle, he said “I’m trying not to lie to you.”

“I appreciate that,” Jess said dryly.

“Thing is, you want answers, you gotta go to Sam,” Dean continued. “I’m not here to fuck things up for him.”

Jess laughed a touch incredulously. “That’s the reason you _are_ here, isn’t it? Not the fucking things up part—I just mean… things haven’t been great between me and Sam for a while now.” _Since the marriage talk_. “I told Sam I needed him to open up, so he invites you here for March break.” Catching Dean’s confused look, she said a bit bitterly, “I bet he didn’t tell you that. Knowing Sam, he probably gave you some half reason that _sounds_ plausible, but isn’t the real reason at all. He’s a terrible liar.

“Just tell me… What he won’t say, it’s what _you_ do, right?” At Dean’s careful nod, she continued, “Just tell me it’s not something illegal.”

Dean’s answer when it comes is slow. “Sometimes. But Jess, it’s not… unrighteous.” Looking directly at her, Dean said, “The only people who get hurt are us.”

* * *

Standing above the open grave, Dean quickly salted the corpse and doused it in lighter fluid. Carmen Perez hadn’t been dead that long, comparatively. The smell wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was still gruesome. He didn’t hesitate to light the match.

Dean stepped out of the way to let Sam fill the grave back in once the fire burnt down. Sam was four years out of the life, but Dean was guiltily pleased to see that the coordination was still there. They didn’t need to talk about simple jobs like this one.

And it was a simple job, thankfully. When Sam had called, he’d thought that something had been possessing those men to make them beat up their girlfriends. He’d spent days unsuccessfully looking for a _male_ ghost, and was starting to get desperate. It was an unlucky break that Sarah was one of the victims because it meant that Sam could get access to interview her without too much difficulty.

When Sam and Zach had arrived back at Zach’s apartment, Dean could tell that Sam had had a breakthrough, but Dean didn’t care so much about that as he did about _fucking finally_ ending sharing hour. Dean had clammed up, but Jess’ Bambi-eyes were about as bad as Sam’s puppy-dog face, so he’d felt like an _ass,_ and Liam was asleep so he and Jess just… sat awkwardly. He couldn’t even try to charm her since she was _Sam’s girl._

Sam had made their excuses to Zach as quickly as he could, and they’d dropped Jess off in short order while Sam made noises about doing some late-night research while the libraries were quiet, and don’t wait up, he’d take a cab home. Dean was a little weirded out by how efficiently Sam had managed to get rid of his girlfriend.

Dean could see Sam relaxing now that the job was done. They didn’t talk while they packed up and headed back to the Impala.

Dean broke the silence once they were seated in the car. “How did you know it was Carmen so quickly?”

“I’d been researching her boyfriend,” Sam said. “The details fit, except they didn’t. It didn’t make sense until Sarah said she’d smelt perfume before she fell.”

“Fuck. They’ve got charges on Sarah’s boyfriend?” Dean asked.

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment. “The thing is, Tim didn’t push her down the stairs, but he did put bruises all over her arms.”

“Fuck,” Dean repeated. “Why the hell was she targeting abused women?”

“The police thought Carmen’s boyfriend had been beating her for a long time before he finally killed her,” Sam said thoughtfully. “There were five incidents, but only one fatality. I’m not sure Carmen was trying to kill them. Maybe she just wanted people to find out. I know it’s a stretch, but I don’t have the police records for any of the other cases, so I can’t be sure.”

Dean glanced at him. “You didn’t hack their database?”

“I’m trying to stay under the radar, Dean.” Sam said, annoyed.

Dean barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no, dude. You weren’t gonna ignore a ghost preying on co-eds in the block _right next_ to where you and Jess live. If we hadn’t finished this in a week, you woulda done it.”

And out came the bitch-face. Dean had missed a lot of things about Sam in four years, but that wasn’t one of them. Ignoring it with the ease of long practice, Dean kept talking. “So what’re you gonna tell Jess?”

Thankfully, Sam didn’t try to deflect. This conversation was going to be shitty enough as it was.

“What exactly _can_ I tell her?” Sam said bitterly. “She’d think I was crazy.”

“I like Jess,” Dean said. “That’s why I’m saying, you’ve gotta tell her _something.”_

“Like _what?”_ Sam snapped. “Should I tell her how dad moved us around like we had supernatural targets on our backs? Or how to track a chupacabra? What a werewolf looks like when it’s _dead_?”

“You could tell her about _mom._ Or you know, _anything,”_ Dean yelled back.

Dean took a long breath. “Fuck. Sammy, _Sam._ She already knows something’s up. She thinks I’m here because you’re trying to ‘open up.’ How long do you think you can keep this up? Until you’re married, until you have kids? Sooner or later, she’s gonna find out. You think she’ll be happy you’ve been lying to her? And what about the next time something happens?”

“ _Nothing’s_ going to happen. I’m not _hunting,_ Dean. This was a one-off, and if it happens again, I’ll take care of it,” Sam said. “I’m not getting sucked back into dad’s crusade!”

“I’m not asking you to, Sam! You made it pretty fucking clear you wanted out when you left, and I didn’t stop you, I drove you to the fucking bus station myself! But burying your head in the sand doesn’t mean the monsters aren’t out there.” Sam didn’t say anything, so Dean kept talking. “I get that it’s risky. I told someone and she threw shit at me when she kicked me out. But we were only together a few weeks. You and Jess have been together _three years._ She deserves better.”

Sam’s expression turned stony. “I’m done talking about this with you.”

Dean shut up. He felt almost winded, like a ghost had just shoved him hard against the seat of the Impala. It took a moment to parse the feeling. He wasn’t used to feeling disappointed in Sam.

* * *

When Sam came home in in the early morning hours, he was subdued. Jess was in bed, but not asleep. She had resolved to be patient, understanding. _Sam is trying,_ she repeated, over and over, _we’ll have time_.

“How was your night?” She murmured to Sam as he laid down.

“…Good. We got a lot done.” He took seven deep breaths. She counted them.

“So, Dean let me know I should probably tell you some things.”

“Yeah?” Jess shifted so that her face was against his chest. This close, she could hear his heartbeat.

“Our mom—”

“Mary.”

“…Yeah, her name was Mary. She died when Dean and I were really little. Our dad couldn’t handle it. He kept trying to blame someone for it, couldn’t accept that she was gone. He got pretty obsessed, so we spent years moving around trying to _find_ something. I probably went to more than two dozen schools.

“He was an ex-Marine, and he didn’t know much about raising kids, so he’d make us run training drills like we were in boot-camp. I couldn’t wait to leave for college.”

“Where’s he now?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him since I left. I just wanted, _needed,_ out of that life.” Six breaths this time.

“Dean doesn’t get it. He’s a drifter. I don’t know if it’s because he likes it, or if he’s just convinced himself he does.”

“I like Dean. He loves you a lot.”

“…I know. Growing up, he did… more than he should have.”

“How long is he staying? We should have him over for brunch tomorrow.” Lying so close, Jess could feel when Sam’s breathing paused.

“…Dean took off, tonight. He had something come up really suddenly.”

“…Did you two have a fight?” Another pause.

“Sorta.”

“You could have just told me that.” Jess hated that she sounded petulant.

“I’m sorry… We were fighting about our dad, again. I just didn’t want to get into it.” She pulled away to lie on her back. Sam was such a bad liar.

“Sam? Why did you invite Dean here?”

“…I wanted you to meet him. You and Dean are the most important people in my life.” _Half-truth,_ she thought.

“Zach called,” Jess said, changing the subject. “He said ‘thanks.’ Also that you asked some weird questions at the hospital.”

The silence was expansive.

“Will you ever tell me?” Jess asked quietly.

“…I want to.”

_Liar._

Jess stared up into the dark. The ceiling could have been ten feet away or a hundred, and she wouldn’t have been able to tell. _I am never going to trust him,_ she thought. And then, _fuck, I need to break up with him._

* * *

Jess didn’t bring it up right away. They were both pre-law, and neither of them had time to waste moving or having emotional breakdowns. She particularly didn’t want to distract Sam—he took school incredibly seriously, with an intensity that scared her sometimes, like he was clinging to his only lifeline.

Sam thought things were better between them. Jess figured they were both terrible liars.

It took a few months for Jess to work up her courage. The plan was to talk with Sam immediately after graduation. But then Dean came back, and he and Sam raced off in the Impala to who knew where. Jess was dead before they returned.


End file.
